[Chapter 4] When I confessed to the girl I liked, her twin sister came along as a bonus
Chapter 4: Apparently, the Twins Know My Circumstances
The Masaki household is your average, run-of-the-mill commoner family.
Our family business is a ramen shop, “Shin Ryu,” tucked in a corner of an old-fashioned shopping district.
There are probably ramen shops with similar names all over the country, but ours is just a simple combo of our surname and my dad’s name, Ryuuji.
It’s a shop my dad started when he was young, with no grand traditions to speak of.
Just your typical cheap and tasty Chinese diner you’d find in any town.
“Yeah, I heard the news. You’re living in some fancy tower mansion now, huh?”
“How’s that already gotten around!?”
I’m still in the Tsubasa family’s living room.
Sinking into the plush sofa, I’m on the phone with my dad.
“Perfect timing, too. You know, Wakaba’s in her first year of middle school now. She’s been saying for ages she doesn’t wanna share a room with her big brother. Probably thinks you stink.”
“Don’t mess with me! Speaking of, you know Wakaba begged Mom to wash your underwear separately, right?”
“What!? Since when!? What about your underwear, huh!?”
“Too bad for you, mine’s still getting washed with Wakaba’s.”
“Don’t screw with me! A horny high schooler’s underwear could have who-knows-what on it!”
“It’s clean, damn it! Anyway, that’s not the point!”
I’m not exactly in a rebellious phase, but my dad’s such a joker that our talks always get rough.
My whole “manliness” creed being so close to roughness is probably his fault.
“Not the point!? Wakaba’s as important to me as the ramen broth!”
“Don’t lump her in with soup.”
Wakaba’s my little sister, who started middle school this year.
Self-proclaimed “Shin Ryu’s poster girl,” she wears a cheongsam she got from who-knows-where and works the front of the shop.
Truth is, we get a decent number of customers coming just for her.
Is our town a haven for creeps or what?
Man, the locals don’t get it… My sister’s not some cute “poster girl.”
She’s only got a good face for show…
No, like I said, let’s put Wakaba aside for now.
“Letting your son live in some stranger’s house is way too careless!”
“If it was my daughter, maybe, but I don’t worry about a high school son. Sounds great! Why don’t you just become a Tsubasa?”
“You don’t sound like my real dad. Even if you’re fine with it, it might bother them.”
“It’ll be fine with the Tsubasa folks.”
“What do you know about them? You don’t even know the Tsubasa family!”
“Huh? I thought something was off. You don’t know about the Tsubasa family?”
“What…? Wait, do I have some connection to them…?”
From what I’ve heard from the twins, they’ve got some unique thought processes.
Still, starting to date today and immediately moving in together feels way too sudden.
“Hey, Dad, if there’s something with the Tsubasa family, spit it out!”
“Nah, nothing. A humble ramen shop like ours wouldn’t know folks living in a tower mansion.”
“Then don’t say cryptic crap! Drop dead!”
“Oh, telling your dad to ‘drop dead’—in a few decades, when I’m wasting away in a hospital bed, you’ll be thinking, ‘Why’d I say that…?’”
“Don’t make grim predictions like that…”
But yeah, I shouldn’t say stuff like that, even to my dad. My bad.
“Anyway, don’t sweat the small stuff as a high schooler. In your long life, sometimes you’ll end up crashing at a stranger’s place.”
“No way.”
Living at someone else’s place might be common in manga or dramas, but actually being thrown into that situation is disorienting as hell.
“Well, I won’t say come back anytime… but you know.”
“Say it! It’s my house!”
“When the shop’s busy, I’ll call you, so get here ASAP.”
“That’s just for your convenience!”
Our ramen shop isn’t some Michelin-starred place, but it does decent business.
My parents handle it, of course, but during busy hours, Wakaba and I get roped in as extra hands.
Compared to my popular “poster girl” sister, I’m only good for washing dishes.
I suck at cooking. Can’t even chop green onions properly—useless.
“Oh, shop’s getting busy, gotta go. Stay healthy, son!”
“Yeah, tell Mom and Wakaba to stay healthy too.”
I hang up with a click.
That dad of mine could stand to be a little less healthy.
But man, what a shock…
“Done with the call? I overheard a bit, but wow, Masaki, you’re pretty rough with your dad.”
“He’s not some cute ‘papa’ type…”
Yukizuki strolls into the living room and plops down next to me.
“To think our parents already worked things out… Did you know, Yukizuki?”
Shockingly, the Tsubasa family had already talked to my family.
I was just brought to this place, and the situation’s moving at lightning speed.
“Well, yeah. The Tsubasa family handles things quickly. Our parents, us—everyone.”
“But your parents don’t come back here, right?”
“There’s not even a room for them here. If they came back, they’d have to sleep in the hallway.”
“At least let them crash on the sofa.”
I don’t know if this place is owned or rented, but their parents are footing the bill, right?
What, do the Tsubasa kids abuse their parents or something?
I’m getting a glimpse of the dark side of a rich family… How terrifying.
The upper class is up to some shady stuff behind closed doors.
“You’re thinking something weird, aren’t you?”
“Don’t worry about it. It’d be crazier to think straight in this situation.”
“I’m getting some serious shade here. But you don’t seem that shaken, Masaki.”
“My face doesn’t show much. Moving it too much scares people.”
“I’m not scared of you, you know.”
“…”
Yukizuki stares straight into my eyes.
It might be the first time a girl’s looked at me this closely.
Normally, girls would tremble and look away… That kinda stings.
“Hey, Masaki—”
“Hm?”
“You got interested in me because I wasn’t scared of you, didn’t you?”
“W-Well, yeah…”
Being called out so directly is kinda embarrassing.
But to think she saw through why I fell for her.
It’s a simple reason, but getting read so easily…
“Hmm, thought so. Guess we sisters aren’t the only easy ones.”
“…”
My face isn’t supposed to show much.
Yukizuki’s grinning, pleased she figured me out.
Even her slightly smug expression is cute.
“…Hm? Yukizuki, you changed?”
“You just noticed? I’m not gonna stay in my uniform at home.”
Still grinning, Yukizuki crosses her long legs as if showing off.
She’s wearing a white T-shirt with English text, the neckline cut low, and thigh-baring shorts—a relaxed look.
“…Pretty casual at home, huh.”
“This isn’t a drama. I’m not wearing skirts at home—they’re fluttery, annoying, and get wrinkled.”
“I-Is that how it works?”
I look away from her long legs and reply.
My sister’s too lazy to change, so she stays in her uniform at home.
“Oh, you’re done with the call? Since it’s all settled with your family, it’s fine, right?”
“Why’s it sound like a yakuza deal?”
Now Fuuka shows up.
She’s in a white sleeveless dress, the hem fluttering down to her ankles.
“Looks like you and your sister have different tastes.”
“Fuuka’s dressing to impress guys. Normally, she’s got a towel around her neck and just underwear on the bottom.”
“She’s dressing like a post-bath old man!?”
“N-No, that’s a lie! I’m more comfortable in skirts at home!”
Phew, that freaked me out…
It’s their freedom to dress how they want at home, but a beauty dressing too casually would be a problem.
In the sense of crushing a guy’s dreams.
“Yuzu-nee, don’t make stuff up… Oh, since your call’s done, let me show you to your room.”
“My room?”
“Obviously. That’s why it’s a 3LDK. Three rooms for me, Fuuka, and you, Masaki. Perfect math, right?”
“The math checks out, but it feels wrong in a common-sense way…”
“Come on, let’s go. It’s not much, but it’s set up.”
Yukizuki ignores my quip, stands, and grabs my hand, pulling me along.
I follow her out of the living room, down the hall, and she opens a door.
“Here it is. Same size as me and Fuuka’s rooms.”
“Great sunlight too. It’s dark now, so you can’t tell.”
“…”
The room’s gotta be at least fifteen tatami mats.
Carpeted hardwood floors, spotless white walls.
A desk, bookshelf, TV, table, and of course, a bed.
Simple but sturdy-looking furniture.
“Alright, I’ll sleep in the hallway.”
“No way!”
“No way! We’d be in trouble if you slept in the hallway!”
“…My body can’t handle a room this fancy. It’s cool in here even without an AC…”
“It’s whole-building air conditioning. See the vents in the walls?”
Pipes must run through the walls, blowing air out.
Barely makes a sound… Meanwhile, my and Wakaba’s room has an AC that roars like a bear snoring.
“This is too much for me… I’ll sleep in the entrance.”
“The security guards would kick you out. I’d get in trouble too.”
“Yup, Yuzu-nee would get scolded.”
“Said you’re the same, but you’re quick to use your sister as a shield, huh?”
Despite claiming they’re identical, she’s slyly hiding behind her big sis.
“Just use the room like a normal person. Phew, that’s settled.”
“If you need anything else, let us know. Oh, your stuff from home is being shipped here. We’ve already arranged movers.”
“It’s moving way too fast… without me knowing.”
“We didn’t expect this to happen today either. Had to set things up quick. It’s because you suddenly confessed to me, Masaki.”
“Is this my fault…?”
Sure, it’s better than getting rejected.
I was 99% sure I’d crash and burn, so being here in Yukizuki’s house, hearing she likes me, feels like a dream.
But it’s gone way beyond my expectations, like it’s broken through the ceiling…
“For now, talking won’t get us anywhere. It’s almost seven.”
“Huh? Already?”
Fuuka’s words make me realize.
It’s been about three hours since I confessed to Yukizuki after school.
Getting stalked, kidnapped to a hotel, brought to a mansion where high school sisters live, and now moving in.
These have been the densest three hours of my life.
“Let’s have dinner. You seem confused, Masaki-san, so eating and relaxing might help.”
“Yeah, I’m starving. Hang on, Masaki.”
“Hm…?”
Yukizuki and Fuuka leave my room, heading down the hall.
I’m hungry, but are they ordering delivery or something?
---
The Tsubasa family’s kitchen is decked out.
Marble countertops, a three-burner stove with plenty of power, and even a built-in grill for meat and fish.
A massive fridge with tons of storage, plus a water purifier and dishwasher.
Isn’t this fancier than the equipment at Shin Ryu, a supposed restaurant?
“Here, Fuuka. Bread the meat quickly. The oil’s at the perfect temperature.”
“Yes, Yuzu-nee. I’ll fry it up nice and crisp.”
“Watch the oil splatter. I’ll leave the pot to you, Fuuka. I’ll prep the sauce and chop the cabbage.”
“Please do. The cabbage is over there.”
“…”
What flawless teamwork.
The twins divide tasks—cutting meat, preparing batter—and work like a well-oiled machine.
Looks like tonight’s dinner at the Tsubasa household is katsu, probably tailored to my growing appetite.
“Hey… you two.”
“What? Kinda busy here.”
“Our sauce is homemade, so it needs precise mixing.”
They’re both deadly serious.
I’ve never seen Yukizuki this focused at school.
“I’ll help with something. I can handle small tasks.”
“It’s fine. It’s faster with just us. Adding noise slows things down.”
“N-Noise…?”
“It’d throw off our rhythm and lower efficiency. Just sit, Masaki-san.”
“…”
They’re basically calling me a nuisance.
But honestly, I don’t have the confidence to jump into their perfect coordination.
My parents, running the ramen shop for years, have good teamwork, but this might be better.
Are twins just that in sync, or are these two extra special?
Since I’d just get in the way, I slink back to the living room.
I turn on the massive 80-inch TV and watch some random variety show I don’t care about.
Lounging in the living room while girls cook for me…
What is this, am I becoming a kept man or something…?
“Masaki, sorry for the wait!”
“Sorry to keep you waiting.”
After a bit, dishes start appearing on the dining table.
Main dish: katsu. Two kinds of sauce, a mountain of shredded cabbage, potato salad, miso soup, and rice.
Even the pickles in a small dish seem homemade. They’re going all out.
“Here, Masaki, eat before it gets cold.”
“Please, enjoy, Masaki-san.”
Urged on by their smiles, I say “Itadakimasu” and take a bite of the katsu.
“…Delicious.”
“Of course.”
“Naturally.”
No humility in these twins, huh.
But honestly, it’s damn good.
“This is insane, I can’t stop eating…!”
“Whoa!”
“Wow!”
The twins seem impressed, but I’m too busy to care.
The katsu’s coating is crispy, the thick meat tender and easy to bite, bursting with juices.
Two sauces—one with sesame, one with miso—both pair perfectly.
It’s already delicious, but switching sauces makes it endlessly edible.
I tear into the juicy katsu, scarfing down hot rice right after—irresistible.
The shredded cabbage, a katsu must, is plentiful, speeding up my chopsticks.
Potato salad, miso soup, and pickles for a breather—all top-notch.
“…Phew. Thanks for the meal, it was amazing.”
“Y-You ate so much. I thought we made too much, but…”
“That’s like three days’ worth for us…?”
The twins are stunned.
I’m not bulky, but I’m tall and still growing.
I can’t compete with athletes, but I eat a lot.
“This is… exciting, Yuzu-nee! We need to step up our recipe game!”
“We don’t eat much ourselves, so we didn’t think about portions. Gotta approach it from that angle too!”
Instead of being shocked, the twins are fired up.
Aren’t the Tsubasa sisters a bit too enthusiastic about everything?
“Well… we want Masaki to keep his energy up. A big appetite is perfect.”
“They say eel and turtle are good for stamina. I’ll look into suppliers.”
“…”
And they’re plotting something.
They’re whispering, but I can hear them loud and clear.
Well, if it means eating good food, I won’t complain.
Yukizuki and Fuuka finish eating neatly, and dinner’s done.
By the way, I’m not allowed to help with cleanup either.
While I’m lounging on the sofa, the dishes get washed spotless.
Am I seriously heading down the path of a kept man…?